


There's always a way

by BehindBrokenWindows



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Fighting, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunions, Rough Sex, Silverflint Summer Challenge, and some caring, but mostly fighting, it's all a bit rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24982837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BehindBrokenWindows/pseuds/BehindBrokenWindows
Summary: Written for the Silverflint Summer ChallengePrompt: post canon era reunion fic - fighting to kissing. they start out almost trying to kill one anotherEnjoy!
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	There's always a way

He’d spent his life running from one bad situation to another, sometimes fleeing, sometimes simply leaving. Had he been someone else he might have said it was because he had a restless soul, but Silver had never denied the fact that he was a coward, that he valued his own life enough to hide below decks while crewmates died up top. Well, he _had_ denied the fact of his own cowardice, at the end. He wasn’t a coward like he’d been before. He could face swords and guns with something like mild annoyance these days, so in that regard he really had changed. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t still cowardly about some things.

So he ran. Again. Not from danger, not to save his own life. He ran from the disappointment in beautiful eyes, and to Long John Silver that truly was the largest threat to his life these days. He ran right from that bad situation, to this other, new, bad situation.

Flint’s hair was almost as long as it had been when they’d first met, falling into his eyes as he focused on his task. Of course he was standing outside his house with an entire fucking carcass on the table in front of him. A deer, which he was at this moment trying to part from one of its legs. Silver had always been fucking shit at timing, and he didn’t care for this metaphor any more than he cared for the cleaver in Flint’s more than capable hand.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” Silver called, just as Flint finally managed to separate the deer from its leg. “Or are you taking out your anger at me on that poor animal?” Flint turned in shock and the leg dropped from his hand to the ground with a meaty thud. This was the moment Silver truly realised the depths of his own stupidity.

Flint had been faced with many shocks in his life. Many situations gone sideways and to shits, to crash into the gutter and dig itself deep into the shittiest depths of this world. What Flint had never been, was a man to let that distract him from his goal. In the end, he was always, first and foremost, ready to take action.

Flint swung at him with the meat cleaver the moment he’d convinced himself that Silver was actually standing there, within reach. Because Silver was a stupid fucking bastard, and he would soon be a dead stupid fucking bastard.

No, fuck that, Long John Silver wasn’t a coward anymore. He could deal with Flint’s cleaver, if not his words.

He jerked out of the cleaver’s very definitive path and drew his sword from its scabbard. It was almost comically easy. He put the sword to Flint’s neck, and short of throwing the cleaver at Silver’s head – which Silver would not put past him – there was nothing Flint could do that didn’t end with his throat cut. So, of course the madman stepped into the sting of the newly honed blade and drew blood on his own neck. _There was always a way_. The blood trickled hot and wet and red over Flint’s freckles and pooled in the dip of his clavicle.

Then Flint grabbed the naked steel with his naked hand and bared his teeth in a way that made Silver’s blood boil and thicken with fear. He pressed his sword harder into Flint’s neck because he could, and because he’d never felt safe this close to the monster, not even the times he’d stepped closer. He cut deeper into Flint’s neck because he’d gotten used to the feeling of parting flesh from flesh and it was all Flint’s fault.

Flint threw the cleaver away and the half moment Silver spent marvelling at the act was enough for him, a man two years removed from the life, to push death from his neck and punch Silver in the face hard enough that his teeth rattled and his pride reared its wounded head.

They were on the ground before Silver had consciously decided to put them there and Flint was livid beneath him, consumed by his rage, it fired him just the way Silver remembered, and he tried to find his reason for ever showing up in this place.

Flint rolled them around on the ground, gaining the upper hand for a moment before Silver cracked their heads together so hard Flint collapsed on him. Without both legs he didn’t get enough leverage to flip Flint’s dazed meat off his chest, but he got one arm around his neck, holding him in place so he could bash his head in with his other hand, stiff, aching knuckles and all.

He was so busy he didn’t see Flint reach for a stone on the ground before said stone connected with his head and probably scraped up the entire left side of his face. Blood seeped into his eye.

He’d seen Flint kill like this before he remembered vaguely as the stone connected again, this time making his ear ring. He felt woozy.

But fuck it, if Flint really were going to kill him like this, Silver wouldn’t let him get out of it with fewer injuries than that other fuck had given him. But he wasn’t thinking straight, he wasn’t seeing straight, not after the third blow made his nose feel suddenly nauseatingly squishy.

He tasted blood, he smelled blood, he was only blood dripping from a thousand cuts, running between Flint’s pecs because it continued to ooze from his neck, his life’s blood spilling across the stars in the night sky and Silver was fucking delirious.

Silver surged after him when Flint pulled back for the next blow and sunk his teeth into the fleshy meat of Flint’s neck and tasted him too. They tasted the same.

Flint jerked, the stone dropped from his hand, and Silver _sucked_ over his cut, drinking him. Then Flint tore himself away with such force Silver feared for his teeth but was left only with the taste of Flint’s blood on his tongue.

Then he was laughing, or wheezing, or dying.

It was just Flint’s stubbornness, his need to always have the last word and come out on top, that made him punch Silver in the mouth one last time. Or perhaps he’d just been looking at his lips.

Silver’s head lolled on the ground, but he was grinning, loose teeth and all, wet with blood, red with blood. Madness all of it until and beyond the moment Flint licked into his mouth to get a taste of them himself. His fingers were claws in Silver’s hair as he pulled his head back and bared his throat. Hadn’t Silver already been swimming between the realms of reality and blessed unconsciousness he might have protested the touch. Now he only lifted his own hand and wrapped it around Flint’s throat in a death grip, a last grasp at reality as they tumbled together into this uncharted territory that had existed between them for so long.

The problem was that beneath the blood, Flint tasted of cinnamon and tea and salt that was more likely to be from Hamilton’s cock than the salt of the sea. And the fingers in his hair had callouses not from swords or pistols but hammers and pens.

But the strength was there despite the silver in his longer hair and Silver urged him on, the embodiment of everything that was lacking in his life as just a man. Silver urged him on, licked his tongue and bit his lips to blood. And he was drowning in it again, their blood in his mouth, the depths of Flint’s rage.

Then Silver yanked Flint’s head away by his hair and _looked_ at the monster, lips coated with their shared blood, cock thick and throbbing with it. His eyes were wild.

Flint turned his face and spat blood into the dirt, then dived down to lick more from Silver’s mouth and he could finally breathe, gasping after Flint’s used air, gagging on it, and he was _breathing_ , breathing life into the monster.

“Fuck you,” Flint growled.

“Yes,” Silver begged.

Flint had been faced with many shocks in his life. This, apparently, was not one of them. He ground his cock into Silver’s hip and dragged a moan from the wetness of his lungs. Silver’s fingers tightened on Flint’s throat, but the bastard pushed into it, pushed into Silver’s thumb over his cut, shoved his hand between their bodies and claimed his lips like he owned them.

Flint’s cock was dripping over Silver’s the moment he got them out of their confines and Silver hissed at the proof of his arousal. Flint looked like he would hit him again. Instead he took their cocks in his fist and unmade him, claimed him, marked him. Took possession of something, though he was long overdue.

“I’ll fucking kill you for coming here,” and Silver would have believed him if his voice wasn’t shaking with need and his hand wasn’t jerking between them. He would have believed him if his blood wasn’t running down Silver’s wrist from the thumb he was pushing against the wound. He would have believed him if he didn’t come as Silver deepened the kiss, tipped into it, swallowed it. If Silver didn’t come too, when he gave himself up to it, to him, to the pain and the rage and the love, and everything he had been running from.

Flint trembled, then sagged until his full weight was on top of Silver, but he kept kissing him. Brushed their mouths together as Silver’s fingers around his throat slackened. And Silver kissed him too, lived for the press of their lips and the come between them and Flint’s fingers toying with a dirty curl. Then he slipped into unconsciousness.

*

Hamilton was making stew for dinner.

Silver watched him out of his good eye, but he saw little more than the man’s back and his short hair. Flint was standing in front of him where he sat on the table, cleaning the blood from his face with a rag dipped in rum. It stung, and the way Flint kept grimacing at his injuries, Silver figured they were bad. A blood vessel in his eye had cracked, so what was supposed to be white was red instead. It was the least of his injuries, but Flint was gentle.

“Your nose isn’t broken.” Silver wasn’t convinced. His corner tooth had come out as he spit the blood from his mouth earlier.

“Maybe I should get a silver tooth in. You know, to match your earring. It’d be poetic.”

While Flint worked, Silver held a rag to his neck, where he’d found the wound deeper than he was entirely comfortable with. The bastard had insisted on seeing to Silver’s injuries first, so Silver shut up and did as he was told because he knew he couldn’t win over Flint in this and the sooner Flint was done with him, the sooner her could sew the cut.

“Thanks. Are you done soon, you’re beginning to look a bit pale, captain.” Hamilton had already fetched needle and thread, so Silver picked them up with thick, awkward fingers and parted Flint’s flesh for the last time. That day at least.

It would be an ugly scar. Mostly because Silver couldn’t sew for shit.

“Dinner’s ready,” Hamilton announced, and the two most feared pirate captains of the West Indies jumped to clear the table. “I assumed you will be staying, Mr Silver, so I’ve readied the guest room for you.” His eyes flicked to Flint, and Silver wondered whether that ‘you’ was singular or plural.

“Thank you,” Silver muttered, and just barely choked down the ‘sir’ that had been on the tip of his tongue. Talking with Thomas Hamilton felt too much like how he’d imagined talking with his father when he was younger, just in from pinching sausages from the neighbours.

Silver had always run from one bad situation to the next. But at least this kind of danger had more to do with his vulnerable heart than the breath in his lungs. Perhaps that was worse, but Silver was a brave man, these days. And he’d always been good at finding a way. Perhaps this time he’d be able to find a way to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Please tell me what you think, comments and kudos always make me smile!


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